Radclyffe - Love On Call

Glenn grinned. “Can’t say that was on my list of things to do.” She stood up. “You mind waiting here for a few minutes?”

“Sure. It’s a beautiful day and I’ve been inside all night.”

“You’re not tired?”

“No!” The last thing she was was tired. Just being around Glenn was exhilarating. She felt better, more alive and more eager for what the day might bring, than she had been all week. “I’m great. Take whatever time you need.”

Glenn paused beside her and touched her shoulder, as if reassuring herself Mari really would stay. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll wait.” Mari watched her as she ran across the field to the corner and disappeared. They weren’t very far from Glenn’s apartment, and she suspected Glenn was going home to change. She didn’t know why and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Glenn said she was coming back. And if she said she was coming back, she would.

Twelve minutes later she appeared—Mari checked her watch when she saw Glenn striding across the green in black jeans and a snowy white T-shirt, her hair slicked back and damp. She looked even better than she had a few minutes before. She grinned and Mari knew she’d been caught looking. Not just looking—wanting. Too late to pretend otherwise.

When Glenn drew near, she held out her hand. “Come on.”

Mari didn’t even ask where they were going. She didn’t really care. She took Glenn’s hand and fell in beside her, the clasp of her fingers warm and reassuring and as natural as anything she’d ever experienced. When questions tried to surface in her mind, she resolutely put them aside. For the first time in a week, she was happy.

Chapter Twenty-three

“I suppose I should’ve asked you,” Glenn said. “Do you mind heights?”

Mari frowned as they walked across the green, slowing every few feet so Glenn could return a greeting. For someone so reserved, so private, Glenn had touched many lives. She was woven into the fabric of this place and Mari knew why. Glenn cared for the community as much as she cared for the individuals. This was a place where roots ran deep and Glenn had found her place, somewhere she might do the same, if she was lucky. She just wished she believed more in luck. Glenn was waiting for an answer, and looking at her, it was easy to forget the past and its hold on her life. Mari smiled. “Heights? You mean like tall bridges and rooftops? No, they don’t bother me. We’ve got plenty of overpasses in LA, and I’ve ridden over all of them. Major metropolis, remember?”

“Well, this won’t be exactly like that, but hopefully better.” Glenn grabbed her hand and pulled her down a narrow passage between a jumble of air compressors, tanks, and other equipment into a clearing relatively free of people.

A heavyset, florid-faced man in a bright yellow T-shirt tucked into oil-smeared canvas pants strode toward them. “You’re all set?”

“Yeah,” Glenn said.

He held out a clipboard. “I need you both to sign these waivers right here. You know, the usual. You won’t sue me if we all end up in a tree somewhere.”

Glenn signed without bothering to read anything and handed the clipboard to Mari. “Frank is going to take us up for a ride.”

Mari looked at the huge tangle of ropes and yellow-and-red-striped canvas lying on the ground. It looked exactly like an enormous deflated balloon. Which it was. “In that?”

Her voice squeaked and Glenn laughed. “Once he pumps a little air into it and fires up the boiler, yes.”

“You’re serious?”

“You’re not scared, are you?”

Oh yes, she was, but not of going up in a hot-air balloon. She’d never done it before, never even imagined wanting to do it, but if Glenn was going to be there, she wanted to go too. And that’s what scared her. She wanted to go anywhere Glenn wanted to take her.

Mari looked at the other balloons lifting off around them, most with one or two people aboard who looked like they were actually piloting the craft. Really, how crazy was that—relying on a sheet of cloth tied to an open furnace to fly around in. Frank and another younger man in jeans and a red T-shirt turned on an enormous fan, and the long sheet of colorful canvas began to fill and float above them. Mari was intrigued despite her misgivings. When Frank arranged something that looked a lot like a giant Sterno can under the balloon and lit an open flame, Mari gasped. Flames shot up toward the canvas balloon, which suddenly puffed up and went airborne. Long lines attached to large stakes in the ground kept it prisoner.

“You’re kidding. Flames?”

“The hot air makes the balloon rise.”

Mari gave her a look.

Glenn held out her hand in invitation. “So, want to go for a ride?”

Yes, anything, anywhere, for a few minutes more with Glenn. The past week’s shadows evaporated in the brilliant glow of Glenn’s smile. Crazy or not, Mari gripped Glenn’s hand. “Tell me we’re not insane.”

“I promise you’ll be fine.” Glenn was still grinning, but Mari sensed the seriousness behind her light tone. Glenn could be counted on, no matter what. She knew that in her bones. She’d counted on family, counted on her own body, and both had failed her. She should know better than to count on anyone, anything, but the still strength in Glenn’s gaze told her otherwise. This woman she could trust.

“Then let’s go.” Mari headed for the makeshift set of stairs Frank had pushed up against the wicker basket. They teetered as she climbed, and Glenn steadied her from behind with a hand on her back.

The baskets hanging below the other colorful, gas-filled balloons already floating off in the sky looked tiny from the ground, and when she got inside this one, the basket didn’t look any larger up close. A sign had said the basket held five, but Mari didn’t see how. There was barely a foot of space left over with the three of them inside. She glanced at Glenn, who was watching her with a faint look of amusement.

“This really isn’t funny, you know.”

“You did say you didn’t mind heights.”

“You neglected to mention we’d be up in the air in something the size of a cereal box. And is there even any way to steer this thing?”

“These lines right here help with piloting,” Frank said, climbing in with them. “Of course, they’re only good for a suggestion. Mostly the balloon goes where she wants.”

Mari grimaced but held her protest. She was committed now—no quitting.

Frank began untying the tethers and tossing them down to the ground. The basket bounced like a puppy eager to be let off its leash. “You don’t have to worry, miss. I’ve been piloting this rig since I could hardly see over the top of the basket.”

“I hope not this very one,” Mari muttered. “They can’t have a life span of more than six months.” When she watched the canvas lift from the ground as the coiled tube pumped air into it, she didn’t actually think it could have a life span of more than a day or two. She prayed for at least another twenty-four hours. “I’m surprised they all don’t catch on fire.”

Glenn chuckled. “It’s a delicate balance.”

Mari didn’t doubt Frank’s lifetime of experience, but she would much rather have been watching the spectacle from the safety of one of the picnic tables. On the other hand, Glenn offered her a taste of adventure, and this one at least was relatively safe. The only thing that might get broken would be her head, not her heart.

That thought brought her up short. Was her heart really at risk where Glenn was concerned? Her body and her sanity were definitely on the losing end of things—being anywhere in Glenn’s vicinity sent her heart rate into the stratosphere, and other parts of her body jolted awake with a mixture of pleasure and nagging need. Her mind blanked and basic instincts took charge. She was no stranger to the concept of sex or sexual desire, and even if she didn’t have the experience, she knew what she was feeling. Just thinking about Glenn aroused her. The sight of her, the sound of her voice, the merest brush of her hand ignited a flood of desire. She certainly wasn’t going to lie to herself about that. The reaction was natural, Glenn was gorgeous, and she rejoiced that her body had finally recovered from the assaults of the last year. But her heart? No, she hadn’t let things get that far out of hand. For now she’d let herself enjoy the attraction, within reason.